Seated In The Sky
by Lovelybrutal
Summary: My entry for the Love Is In The Air contest.  Insecure funnel cake freak Bella is hopeless around the opposite sex. Will a mishap on the Ferris wheel help her unclench?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This has been my first stab at fiction since high school. That means **last century**, okay? i entered it into a contest, hoping to blow everyone away with my hidden talent, and ... um ... it didn't win. Or place.

So i felt foolish and embarrassed and cried all night. i wanted to trash it and never write anything again.

But then i remembered how i read and enjoy so many fics, from so many different genres, so frequently; it didn't seem fair that i expect others to put their work out there for me to read, but i'm too chickenshit to share the little bit that i've written. So here it is. i hope you enjoy.

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~0~

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I love fairs.

No, wait. That's not right.

I fucking worship fairs to a deeply upsetting degree.

There are three main reasons for this, and the first and greatest is the food: more specifically, funnel cake. A 9" diameter disc of deep fried ecstasy, mounded high with powdered happiness. You can imitate them at home, but they're never as fucktastically good as they are at the fair. It probably has something to do with the way the food booth staff never wash their hands, or perhaps they add some unsavory biological element to the dough when no one's looking. I don't fucking care. I love funnel cake. I always have one at each fair I visit, frequently have two, and will occasionally share a third, if one of my lame little cum-receptacle friends whines that she "can't finish this whole thing." I will no longer polish off a third one alone, since the Harvest Festival of '04 when I valiantly attempted the trifecta and ended up losing custody of all three dough babies behind the Tilt-a-Whirl.

After funnel cakes have been secured and engulfed, there's more fair food too. Italian sausage sandwiches, ice cream, falafel, zeppoles, cotton candy, chicken skewers, deep fried Oreos. Throw in a trough-sized hand-squeezed lemonade and you have yourself one blissfully bloated Bella Swan.

Have I mentioned that I live for the fucking fair season?

The second reason I spend my entire summer fair-hopping is the shopping. While some fairs tend to be light on the vendors, most of them have plenty of flea-market style tents housing both the best and the worst that local commerce has to offer. There are always plenty of old men setting up musty card tables, airing out the worthless crap from their basement, alongside middle-aged ladies selling jewelry that looked like it was targeted at puffy pink baby unicorns. It takes a discerning eye and a high tolerance for patchouli to filter through the trash and find the hippie artisan selling handmade dresses and skirts in delicate florals and cool, drapey tye-dyes, and the sweet, chatty home chef offering samples of her delectable, moist pumpkin bread and cinnamon buns. A personal favorite of mine is the old man who arrives at the Clallam County fair every year with several crates of tiny hand-carved wooden boxes and figurines. It only takes 30 seconds of conversation with the proprietor before you understand he is certifiably insane. He knows me by name and greets me warmly each year - right before he starts telling me about his trip to Mars and going off about the "friggin' commies".

But oh, Reason Number Three. The true love I've never spoken to. Six feet of copper-topped, unattainable, sex-on-legs in dusty, dark-wash jeans. Three years I've seen him at the first fair of the summer, helming the Ferris Wheel. Each time I've had to sit down on a hay bale to keep from dropping to my knees in sexual thrall.

Not to mention dropping my funnel cake.

Last year, I could have sworn he smiled at me - until I turned around and saw he was actually smiling at the performance stage behind me, where the tweens of Miss Angela's School of Dance were presenting their rendition of "Poker Face", featuring a gaggle of barely coordinated girls in truly absurd outfits, wearing makeup applied, apparently, by a blind whore with an ice scraper.

My sex angel, the creature who has been the shining star of my self-love experiences, whose flickering green eyes and tousled bronze hair have been well memorized even though I've only seen him for mere moments these past three years - despite what would probably make sense to most people, I am not going to talk to him today. Some girls have the nerve to just go up and talk to a guy they're interested in. I think I traded that superpower for the ability to make a perfect cup of coffee and write a 15-page paper on a single quatrain of poetry. I can't talk to this sex god. I can't even entertain the idea without my face and neck blushing fucking magenta for shit's sake. Hell, I don't even know his name, and I'm pretty sure someone that attractive doesn't need one. Certainly not in the English language. Perhaps he had a name in one of those ancient tribal languages made up of clicks and trills, and it sounded like a woman having a thirty second orgasm. Hardcock McFuckswell. Dances with Clits. Now I'm daydreaming.

Or at least, late-morning dreaming. I stretched lazily in my too-big bed and pawed around for my phone. Time to get up, caffeinate, shower, and go pick up my two best friends whose presence and running commentary both enhanced and focused my fair experience. They've learned that I don't take no for an answer between May and October, so they graciously accompany me and at times, rein me in. Entering the hot-dog eating contest at the Port Angeles "End of the Summer" fair last year might have ended in disaster, if I hadn't had my girls there to talk me out of it. I smelled what some of the also-rans were bringing up twenty minutes later behind the stage and I'm pretty sure we'll all be riding around in flying fucking cars before I'm in the mood for a hot dog again. I'm very fortunate that my girls didn't happen to think that seeing me eject chunks of processed meat would have been that funny.

An hour later, I am dressed in a white tank top (doesn't show powdered sugar spills) with a gauzy short sleeve navy blue blouse over it (to be buttoned in case of rain, preventing unadvertised nipple karate demonstration), and stretch jeans that hug my ass like it was their mama. Everything on me was carefully chosen to enhance the experience. Bella Swan does not fuck around when it comes to the fair, and this one, being the first of the season and the only one where I see my gorgeous Carnival Sex Idol, is especially sweet. My second cup of coffee was puffing out wisps of steam from the lid of my travel mug, my phone was charged, and my girls were alerted that I'm on my way.

Dammit. I always forget something. I put everything down and go back to the bathroom to put on eyeliner.

I don't do lipstick, blush, or mascara on an everyday basis. But if I leave the house without eyeliner, someone had better check for my fucking pulse.

I wasn't thinking about looking pretty for the boy who mans the Ferris wheel. Of course not.

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~0~

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"So, which would you rather: to have to wear hospital scrubs everywhere, all the time, or to have to end every sentence with 'You Bitch'?"

"Fuck, Alice, you know I can't live without my jeans. You Bitch," Rosalie snorted.

"Yeah, but come on, walking down the aisle one day, towards the man of your dreams, you'll have to tell him 'I do, You Bitch', right in front of his mom and shit."

"But at least I'll be in a goddamn white dress when I do it. You Bitch."

Alice laughed. "OK, yeah, _white_."

"I'm sorry," Rose tapped me on the shoulder, "can you clear something up for me, Jezebella? Now, am I catching shit from _Brandon_ for promiscuity? Or did I just lose my motherfucking mind? Because if you want to start throwing stones, baby doll, you might want to change out of those glass fucking panties first."

"She's right," I shot an apologetic look at Alice, "you're a slutbag of the highest order." It wasn't true, though. Neither of my friends were whores. They were actually very picky about who they slept with, but they did manage to enjoy a casual hook up pretty much wherever they went. I couldn't be mad. I'd be doing the same thing if I weren't completely tongue-tied and terrified when it came to members of the opposite sex. The only men I'd had experience with had approached me first, and been persistent enough to get past my awkwardness. It wasn't that I didn't want male companionship, because I did. OK, I _really_ did. Just ask my vibrators. Seriously, you can ask. One of them talks.

Okay, no it doesn't. But if you find one that does, I'll buy two. No, wait, just one. Otherwise they could start talking to each other and I don't think I want that. They might unionize.

My second biggest obstacle to finding a boyfriend was that I hadn't the faintest clue how to meet one I wanted to be around with our clothes on. None of the skeevy, unwashed guys in my college classes were good looking or articulate enough for me to overlook the unapologetic way they stared at my tits. But all my pickiness and timidity came down to one harsh reality: it had been 8 months since anything without settings had been between my legs. And soon, I was going to break and let the first guy who could maintain eye contact bed me. And I didn't want to do that. I'd only ever had sex within a relationship before, and didn't want to start doing randoms at this point.

But fuck it, you know? When the time is right, it'll happen for me. And I was sick of thinking about this shit today. I was going to eat funnel cake until it wept from my tear ducts, buy some shitty hemp jewelry, win a seven-foot-tall pink panda and ogle that sexy bastard with the eyes that make me fan myself like Scarlett O'Hara. All nice and light. No big questions.

"Earth to Bella, you just passed the fucking parking lot, dumbass," Rose imitated walkie-talkie static in my ear.

I made a gesture to smack her away from my ear. "Fuck. I was daydreaming about your brother's face between my legs, I must have missed the sign."

"So gross. Please don't go there again today or I might have to drop kick your precious funnel cake into the petting zoo," she spat back at me.

Alice bit her lip and looked at the floor mats. She had the biggest crush on Rosalie's brother, Jasper. Rose knew, but I'm not sure she understood the depth of it. Alice had never liked anyone as much as she liked Jasper. It was impossible to tell if he had any feelings for her, though. The guy was sweet and personable to everyone. He went out of his way to hold doors open for Alice and buy her drinks, but he did that stuff for a lot of people. Alice and I spent more than a few nights hovering over a quart of mocha chocolate chip, discussing the significance of his tiniest gestures. Did it mean he liked her if he pulled out her chair at the restaurant? What if he placed his hand at the small of her back when he opened the theater door? What did he really mean when he said "have a nice weekend"? It was all very high school, but I can't say it was a chore. Alice's buoyant spirit made her easy to be around. I assumed Jasper would see it too, one day.

I turned to Rosalie as I u-turned back towards the parking area. "Is he still coming today?"

"Yeah, he came early to help Grandma set up her table, he said he'd hang for a little bit." She chewed on her lip. "He also said he might bring a friend."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I knew exactly which friend she meant.

"Hey, that shit's heavy. Jasper couldn't carry it all alone." Rose & Jasper's grandmother, besides being a fiesty little spitfire at 76, was an accomplished sculptor and glassblower. Her pieces ranged from funky windmills made out of old trash cans to delicate glass lampwork beads. I could believe she needed another set of hands for the larger sculptures, it was just the moron attached to those hands that I objected to.

"I'm not going to be civil to him," I hissed between clenched teeth.

"No one asked you to," Rose raised an eyebrow, "just don't break any of grandma's stuff telling him off."

"Don't let seeing Jake ruin your day, Bella," Alice rubbed my shoulders from the backseat as I pulled into a spot.

"I won't. He's not that big of a deal," I shrugged.

He really wasn't. He got under my skin last year, around Thanksgiving. He was a friend of Jasper's, so I saw him a lot when I hung out with Rose. He leered at me whenever I saw him, but I wasn't interested in getting under that, even if he _could _crush beer cans in his abs. He asked me out a few times in joking and mildly offensive ways, and I blew him off in similar fashion, thinking he was just being funny. But when Rose & Jasper's parents threw a holiday party, I had a few too many cups of mulled wine, and he somehow steered me out into the yard. He backed me up against the house and kissed me so sloppily that even fall-down-drunk, I could tell he was doing it wrong. He kept mumbling that he thought I was hot, that he knew I liked him, that he wanted to fuck me. I was drunk. I liked the attention. So I blew him behind the garden shed.

Yup, right next to the hoe.

Fucking sue me. Tons of women have youthful indiscretions and don't have to deal with mortifying consequences for it. Except me. I do. Because he fucking told everyone about it within ten minutes of his spunk hitting the snow. Word got around quickly to almost everyone at the damned party, as well as the damned small town. Including Jasper & Rose's parents.

I think they thought he was kidding, because they never said a word to me or called Charlie. Dear Jesus, I hoped they thought he was kidding.

So seeing Jake again this side of a cremation oven was certainly not something on my list for the day.

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~0~

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"One funnel cake, please."

"Honestly, Bell, I don't know why you couldn't even let us say hi to Grandma before you start in with that stuff."

"Because it will keep my mouth occupied so I don't start going off on Jake."

Alice snickered. "You mean _getting _off on Jake!"

"Bitch, you do not want to start with me when I'm about to be holding something that was in boiling oil four seconds ago," I grumbled as I paid for the fried perfection I was about to enjoy. "Anyway, it was like this," I held up a pinkie to demonstrate Jake's unimpressive member, "I don't think he could get a paramecium off with that tiny little thing."

The girl in the fried dough booth handed me the paper plate, and I accepted it with both hands like it was a plate of Eucharist. I needed to sit down for this first bite. I tiptoed over to the first unoccupied hay bale, protecting the mounded sugar from the breeze with my hand, and stared at the golden brown swirls of dough, glistening where the white powder didn't touch. I leaned close in and inhaled the sweetness. My hands were on the verge of burning from the hot oil rapidly soaking into the plate, but I needed to just savor this moment. Honestly. I fucking loved the fair.

"I want you inside of me," I whispered to the funnel cake.

"For fuck's sake, eat the thing, you don't have to make us watch while you seduce it," Rose whined.

I flipped her off and bit into the crispy squiggle of joy.

Oh yes.

This is why I was put on this earth. To eat fried dough.

My eyes closed as a I chewed slowly, savoring the perfect golden sweetness that was already turning the paper plate translucent.

I couldn't help it, a little sex moan slipped out.

And then I heard an appreciative chuckle. My eyes flew open and my breathing stopped. There he was. The Adonis with the ocean green eyes. He was on line for food.

Watching me have an orgasm over my funnel cake.

He raised his eyebrows in a genially amused expression.

"Is it good?" he asked.

_The fuck do I say?_

My brain was a numb lump of grey. I couldn't think of a single English word, never mind something funny or sexy. I couldn't even remember to stop gaping and look away.

"Huh," my mouth somehow formed the sound unbidden. I think it was trying to say, "uh-huh", but being brain-dead apparently tends to get in the way of speech.

Thank Jesus, the gorgeous creature was next in line, the concession stand cashier distracting his attention from me. He took his food and turned to pass something else to the beefy, dark-haired friend he had been standing with.

Then I saw what he had purchased.

The sexy little fucker had gotten himself a funnel cake too.

_As soon as my brain comes back online, I'm going to strip naked and jump on that boy. And after I fuck him senseless, I'm going to steal his funnel cake._

He turned and walked back towards the area of the fair where the ides and games were clustered, shooting me one last smile as he left, lifting the plate to his mouth and biting into the fried dough.

My brain kindly waited until he was 15 or 20 steps away to have my high-school-flavored panic attack.

"Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod I'm such a fucking brainless twat and he talked to me! He fucking talked to me and I sounded like a cow getting fisted didn't I? When I said huh? He thinks I'm a moron doesn't he? For fuck's fucking sake _why did i have to be born so stupid and why did he talk to me_?"

Rose and Alice both looked at me like I'd suggested we go down to the pig races and fellate all the swine. I barely had time to set the funnel cake down on the hay beside me before I felt the overly warm rush of blood to my face and started kneading my temples as I hyperventilated. I knew why they were staring at me. Bella Swan doesn't get like this over a guy. Bella Swan doesn't get like this, period. Through blackouts, car accidents, food poisoning, and having fellow students falsely accuse me of plagiarism, I kept my head up and retained my calm. Most likely, it was a by-product of being incessantly embarrassed and tense due to my naturally clumsy nature. You can only fall down and get laughed at by the entire school so many times before your don't-give-a-fuck response kicks in and you fail to freak out anymore. I thought my ZOMGWTFBBQ muscles had atrophied. Turns out they were just waiting for the World's Hottest Carnie to come talk to me.

Alice and Rose exchanged a wide-eyed, questioning look and a shrug before they sat down on either side of me. Rose fanned me with a map of the fairground while Alice held a piece of funnel cake to my lips. "Eat some sugar, sweetie. And then tell me why the fuck you're such a spazmoid over that guy."

"Wait, that was HIM?" Rose asked.

"No, Rose, it was the tooth fairy in drag. She's hyperventilating because she was thinking about sucking Jake's nut sack again," Alice spat.

"Gross," I panted between gulps of air. "And I'm pretty sure I never sucked his nuts."

"Whose nuts is she sucking?"

Goddammit, I knew that voice. Jacob Mother Humping Black.

"Your mom's," I choked out, "they're so much bigger and hairier than yours."

Jake gave me a look that was intended to be sexy and condescending at the same time, but I couldn't stop staring at his huge teeth long enough to let it bother me. "You'd know I guess, having had your face all buried in my crotch and whatnot."

For the first time I noticed Jasper was with Jake, and he looked exasperated. "Let's have no more of that, Jake," he chided, "Highly ungentlemanly. And unpleasant as well. Ladies," he turned toward us with a smile. Charming fucker. If he'd had a hat on, I bet he'd have tipped that shit at us.

Was it just me, or did his eyes linger a bit long on Alice today? Those eyebrows were a little too arched for a purely friendly greeting. I'd have to discuss this notion with the girls as soon as he was out of earshot.

"All done setting Grandma up?" Rose asked her brother.

"Yeah, she's set and had a few sales already, too," he said. "Actually, she wanted me to come find you, she wants you to man the both while she takes a break."

"Why couldn't you two do it?"

"First, this Neanderthal broke two oil lamps and a glass bowl already," Jasper motioned to Jake with his head, "and second, she said pretty girls move more goods." He shrugged and threw the quickest, tiniest of smiles at Alice.

I peeked back at her, my estrogen related panic attack all but forgotten. Her face gave no clue; no blush, no knowing grin, only a very subtle, longish blink, like she was a little bit sleepy. Hmm. Something was definitely up. But I knew she wouldn't spill until we ditched Jasper and his douchenozzle.

"Well, as lovely as this hasn't been," I scowled at Jake, "we have a booth to watch."

"We'll walk you over," Jasper offered.

_Fuck, Jasper, stop being such a gent! I need to grill my pixie! _It almost sounded like a euphemism. Or a scrumptious dessert. Grilled pixie a la mode with pineapple caramel sauce.

We stood and I slung my bag across my chest so I could eat as we walked. Jake the Mistake walked uncomfortably close to me, and I got the impression he might have tried to hold my hand if I hadn't been eating with them both. Did he seriously think I would want to date him after all that? Does he act like that towards every girl he liked? If he thought that behavior was appealing, he was the most romantically misguided shitbag I'd ever met.

Grandma Hale's booth was near the midway, and the sounds of the games and rides mingled with the smells of popcorn and fried dough. She greeted us briefly but happily, and rushed off gratefully in the direction of the visitor's center, which had much nicer bathrooms than the comfort station by the food vendors. Rose, Allie and I got settled at her table as I polished off my last two bites of funnel cake and started pushing my finger around the plate, savoring the generous pile of leftover powdered sugar. My irritation at being around Jake quickly melted as I reminded myself I was literally in my happy place.

Sensing this, he must have subconsciously chosen that moment to turn on the shit faucet he called a mouth.

"So, uh, my parents are going away tomorrow ..."

I stared a hole through the yellow checkered tablecloth under Grandma Hale's assortment of tiny glass elephants. Eye contact might result in me being too tempted to shove a stained glass garden ornament up Jacob's rectum.

_He wouldn't dare. _

"I thought maybe you would want to come over, and, uh ... Bella?"

I was gripping the tablecloth so tightly, the teeny tiny elephants were about to tip over and fall. I could almost see them exchanging worried looks.

Suddenly the shadow over the booth from where Jake stood was replaced by sunshine. I looked up to see Jasper had yanked him by the shoulder and dragged him a couple of feet away and was talking in a low, angry voice into his ear.

"That's right, little bro, set that brain-dead fucker straight." Rose spat. "I don't know why they're even friends, honestly."

The two men took a step back towards the booth. "We're just going to take a little walk around the fairgrounds, we'll catch you later," Jasper said. They walked a few steps before Jake came running back towards us with a mischievous look on his face.

"I just gotta show you girls one thing ..."

He put one foot, then the other on the display table, knocking some of the tiny elephants over on their sides. They were clearly terrified.

Grandma Hale's shop was called The Thorny Rose, after the fact that Rose, her first grandchild, had been such a demanding and implacable baby. Standing on the table, hanging onto the shop's hand-painted banner for balance, Jake put both of his hands over the second 'T'.

_The Horny Rose._

_"_Heh heh, check it out," he chuckled. "Rose is horny! I just had to show you guys that."

Alice didn't waste a second picking up my funnel cake plate, still covered with powdered sugar, folding it slightly in the middle and holding it up to her lips. She exhaled in one quick, focused breath and instantly blew the white powder all over Jake's face and black shirt.

"Dick," she hissed.

Jasper was back, trying to pull Jake down without breaking any more of his grandmother's items.

"I think you have a date with a dunk tank," he grunted.

"Oh, hey Jake," I called out, "can I ask you a favor before you go?"

He tried to smile at me through the sheen of white powder clinging to his face like a kabuki mask.

"Bring me back some wipe-off markers."

"What?" he squinched his face up like he was smelling something nasty.

"Some wipe-off markers. You know, the ones for dry-erase boards and stuff."

"What the hell for?"

"For your teeth, they're big as fucking whiteboards. I could write you a note to never fucking talk to me again, you tiny-dick motherfucker."

"The fuck ...?" He was slow on the comeback, and Jasper was already dragging him away.

It was silent in the booth for a minute as I tried to breathe my anger away.

Finally, Rose shrugged at me. "He does have some big-ass teeth, doesn't he?"

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~0~

.

Except for a few excursions to get food, visit the bathrooms, and peruse the disappointing array of vendors, Allie, Rose & I stayed with Grandma Hale & helped her with the customers for the rest of the day. She's one of the funniest, warmest hearted people I know and certainly the easiest person of any age to talk to. The sun was starting to set, dipping the entire fairgrounds in dusty pink and lavender. I tried to focus on the lengthening shadows of fair patrons making their way towards the exit as Alice continued badgering me about the handsome carnie. The one I hadn't been thinking of on top of me all day.

"Listen, just, I don't know, say _something_! Even if you, like, puke on his shoes, he's still leaving town tomorrow with the rest of the fair, right? It won't haunt you if you mess up, but it _will_ haunt you if you don't try."

"You mean, _you _will haunt me if I don't try. By irritating the fuck out of me until next year."

Alice shrugged. "Whatever gets you over there."

My stomach flipped and my heart started to beat faster at the thought. Alice did have a point; if I messed up and looked like a giant twatburger in front of My Personal Sexual Heroin, it's not like I'd ever have to face him again. I had never been smooth with guys, even the ones who demonstrated their interest in me first. And with one as amazing looking as this green-eyed god? I was guaranteed to say something stupid. Either that, or I would lose my powers of speech altogether and stand in front of him, stuttering and drooling like a horny victim of head trauma.

Alice was helping Grandma Hale start to box up her remaining inventory. The fair was closing. I'd have to make a choice.

No. I would talk to him next year. Today was just too soon. I needed a plan - and a better outfit, maybe a new hair color ...

Rose, who had overheard the badgering but had been kind enough not to join in, leaned down to whisper in my ear as she wrapped another glass elephant in newspaper.

"How many more fairs are going to go by before little Bella comes out of her shell-a?"

The image that instantly sprang to mind of me hiding under a turtle shell, crushed by my own fear of rejection, isolated from the possibility of meaningful interaction, was not a pretty one.

She was right.

I stood up, grabbed my bag, gave her a determined nod, and started walking towards the Ferris Wheel.

"Just start with a word!" She shouted after me. "Any word! 'Hi' would be fine! No barking or grunting, those might be interpreted as hostile overtures!"

I forced myself to keep walking even though my courage was fading fast.

_Gotta say something. Anything. _

But what the fuck can I say that keeps me from looking like a moron? Or a reject from Pushy Whore Island?

I wasn't going to be able to do this. I needed more time to think.

Just three minutes would help.

Three minutes was about the length of a ride.

Fucking brilliant. I turned to buy a ride ticket from the last booth that was still open. I would ride that gorgeous bastard's Ferris wheel, then think of something perfect to say while I was up in the air. When I got off the ride, he'd be right there, I'd deliver my charming line and he'd be instantly smitten, following me around like a sexy puppy until I agreed to let him do me in the back of my car.

_Bella Swan, you are a cowardly genius._

My bravado took a swift kick to the nuts as my feet touched the metal ramp up to the ride. I looked up and saw him there, arms crossed over his chest, leaning confidently against the main support. His fitted black short-sleeve button down fluttered slightly at the hem as the breeze from the moving ride whipped at his skin. His cheeks showed a hint of stubble, lit up in coral as the sun set his reddish-brown hair on fire. He was watching the ride spin. He was not looking at me.

_Guys who look like that cannot even see girls who look like you_, my insecurity intoned, threatening to send me running from the platform.

The only reason my feet stayed planted was because I was pretty sure that running away would have caused a clatter of my shoes against the ramp, which surely would have drawn his attention. I might fail to make a good impression, I told myself firmly, but I wouldn't run away without at least making one (potentially mortifying) attempt.

_Clunk._

I looked up to find that now he was standing right next to me, at the controls. He was slowing the ride to a stop. I nervously molested the edge of my ticket with my thumb. _Fuckfuckfuck. Stop being such a nervous cunt. It's not like he's going to bite. He looks really nice. I'm sure he'll be very polite when he pisses on my heart. _

Gondola by gondola, he helped each of the chattering, giggling riders out. My brain was silent as I watched him, listening to my breathing get faster as he finished helping the last passengers off and turned to me.

I froze. He had his hand held out for my ticket.

_He is waiting for you to stop being stupid._

I snapped to attention, holding the ticket out, and he took it without touching my skin.

_Dammit_.

I looked up, and the eye contact made me feel like someone was choking the everliving shit out of me. His eyes were warm though, and he was smiling at me in a way that was completely disarming, even to a bundle of trembling nerves dressed up as a girl, inwardly cursing Rose because I already regretted the unbidden burst of confident enthusiasm she inspired. I was entirely unable to speak and he was going to think I rode the short bus. I suddenly wished I could channel Ariel from The Little Mermaid. She managed to get the guy without her voice.

_Yeah, but she had a shitload of talking seafood helping her out. I probably ate my Sebastian last Tuesday in that kani salad. _

And then he spoke to me.

"Last ride of the night," he gestured me into the waiting gondola. "Hope you don't mind riding alone."

I looked behind me and saw no one else on line. Fuck. My dumb gambit was keeping him from wrapping up & ending his day. I was _that_ chick. He probably hates my guts right now. Perhaps tucking tail and running wasn't such a bad idea -

"Ready?"

His smile was so genuine and relaxed, lighting his eyes. He could have told me to just get on the damn ride already, or told me I was too late. But here he was, smiling sweetly like I was an old friend. Some hidden, socially apt part of my brain thawed at his kindness, and I stepped forward with a smile on my lips, accepting his outstretched hand for help stepping into the ride. For the first time, I noticed that the entire Ferris wheel looked very old, possibly vintage. Rust crept along the corners and joints, and the control box looked like it could tell me about the time Elvis got on for a spin. A new strain of nervous started to blossom in my belly, along with the fear of plummeting hundreds of feet to a particularly terrifying, humiliating, and metallic demise.

Too late to get off now. He punched a button and the Ferris wheel groaned to life. It had been years since I'd been on a ride like this. My stomach lurched as I rose skyward, my eyes pinched themselves into slits. As the gondola approached the peak and began gliding down again, I forced my eyes open for a peek at the operator ... and was rewarded with the briefest moment of eye contact.

He was looking at me. But the warmth in his eyes had morphed into something sharper, almost sly. Like he was amused by some inner monologue I couldn't hear.

Thinking about his expression, I forgot to close my eyes as the ride brought me back upwards, the evening breeze sending a roaring coolness over my face, my hair whipping wildly out behind me.

_And when I get off, he's going to see my hair looking like it's trying to run away from my head. Fuck a bag of dirty needles, Rose! I should have thought this shit through!_

As the gondola crested, my vain, self-conscious thoughts were brushed aside at the view of the fairgrounds and half the county laid out before me in sunset colors. The stars were just beginning to become visible in the lavender bands of sky painted thickly with clouds. This was very possibly the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen with my own eyes. Combined with deep breaths tasting of the crispness of evening air, it was moving my heart to give up its burden of anxiety. What should I fear when I am alive tonight, a living part of a world as beautiful as this one? What is impossible while I am young and breathing and unbroken?

_Clunk. _

My stomach dropped at the loud noise echoing through the now emptying fairgrounds. The sickening thump was followed by a tight screeching of metal sliding against unwilling metal, and the ride came to an abrupt stop, right at the crest of its orbit.

_Great. I get to die up here in the seat of my epiphany._

Suddenly the view I'd thought of as idyllic and inspiring just seconds ago became a terrifying, spiraling sea of awaiting death. I'd never been afraid of heights, but that didn't mean I was comfortable being stranded helpless in a malfunctioning death machine. My heart pounded and the wind whistled in my ears as I swallowed hard and shut my eyes tightly.

_This shit is all your fault, Rose, you shady little cum bucket, and if I die in this godforsaken rusty contraption I swear to god I will haunt your ass so bad -_

"Hello up there?" Sexy But Apparently Incompetent Ferris Wheel Operator's voice boomed up at me.

I couldn't manage more than a whimper in return.

"Miss? I'm sorry, there's been some, uh … technical difficulties, we're working on bringing you down. Just hang in there for me, okay?"

_Breathe, Bella. Breathing is nice. Puking is not so nice. No puking today, alright?_

But I could feel that I was going to lose this battle. My breath was coming too fast, the gondola swaying slightly, my mortal terror quickly compounding my earlier anxiety over talking to the hottest jerk to ever strand me 580,000 feet in the air. Or 60 feet, whatever.

_Focus on something else, Bella. Listen to the sounds. _

A grinding noise. Some clanging. Shoes on the narrow metal ramp. Voices.

_Fuh. King. Breathe._

"You still alright up there, miss?" Funny how his voice sounded smooth even when he was shouting at me.

_Say you're okay, Bella. _

The sound that escaped from me at that moment did not sound like "okay". It sounded like someone stepping on a duck and kicking a puppy at the same time, a sort of quacking yelp that probably removed any doubt in the boy's mind that I did, in fact, require the shortest bus available.

"Hang on," he called up.

More clanking, softer this time, accompanied by erratic creaks. It almost sounded like flesh slapping against the metal supports, and it was getting louder. Was he really smacking the wheel with his hands? What the fuck was that supposed to accomplish? Was this what they were teaching at the Technical School for Fuckhot But Brain-dead Carnies? The guy was, beyond a doubt, the most attractive man I had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on, but those good looks could be completely overshadowed if he had a brain the size of a hamster's dick. Smart is even sexier than sexy. Dumb is an instant dealbreaker.

Summoning the courage to look over the edge of the gondola to confirm the source of the sounds, my eyes were rewarded by the sight of his bronze hair, presumably with the rest of him attached, rapidly climbing the girders of the ride towards me. My shock was like a mouthful of peanut butter, making speaking impossible, and I was suddenly at risk of forgetting to breathe too.

The gondola suddenly rocked hard as his fingers appeared at the edge and he easily pulled himself over the side with a grunt.

_He's some kind of Ferris Wheel ninja._

He looked up at me from under his eyelashes, and the impulse to puke was replaced with an urge to launch myself like a roman candle into his arms and explode. The smile on his lips was cocky, despite the way his breath was coming fast and hard from the climb. "Thought you might like some company," he panted.

"What the - you - you climbed up? How did you do that?" I noticed I was panting myself.

The cocky grin deepened. "With love's light wings did I o'er perch these walls."

My face dropped in shock. He was quoting Shakespeare to me. No boy had ever quoted anything to me besides Seinfeld or Star Trek.

He looked down, frowning and licking his lips, "It's, um, it's from a play."

Literary Quotations was MY Jeopardy category. This boy was clearly from my camp, and that fact started a buzzing feeling in my brain that loosened my tongue and crossed my legs.

"No," I argued, "It's not _just _from a play. It's from Romeo and Juliet."

"Act 2, Scene 2," he looked more than a little pleased that his reference wasn't wasted on me.

He continued, "For stony limits cannot keep love out, and what love can do-"

"That dares love attempt." I finished. "The balcony scene is my favorite."

"You're a reader."

"Something like that." How could I not have noticed his scent before? It was smoky, but fresh. Like he'd just been sitting by a bonfire on a beach.

"Yeah, I-" he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "You sounded like you might be freaking out up here, I thought maybe you were afraid of heights."

"It's not like I'm fond of them. But I wasn't freaking out. It's just - being up here - it's a little - um, helpless." I licked my lips. "But I'm okay."

"Oh, should I- " he gestured over the side as if to climb back down.

"NO!" my hand shot out from my side, grabbing his bare forearm, as if I could pull him back.

He gave a low chuckle, "Don't worry, I won't fall. My uncle Carlisle owns this ride, and the Tilt-a-Whirl too. We live here in Forks, but he rents the equipment to fairs up and down the coast all summer. I've been climbing this one since I was six. I grew up around this stuff." His eyes moved to my fingers, still clasped around his right arm. He used his left hand to gently release my grip, and before despair could engulf me, slid my fingers lower to entwine them with his.

"But I can stay, if that would make you more comfortable."

_He's not a travelling carnie. He's local. How have I not seen him around?_

I was about to say something stupid, and I knew it. But I couldn't help it, my curiosity was too strong.

"I mean, yes, stay - but - if you're up here, who's …" I peered down over the edge and instantly regretted it, letting out a gasp as my stomach lurched.

"My cousin Emmett's down there. He's got it under control, he's way better than me at the technical stuff." He looked down at his boots, as if he was suddenly shy. "I'm Edward, by the way."

"Bella. Is your name really Edward?"

_Shit, Bel, you think he'd lie about his name? Your 'stupid' button must be stuck. Punch it a few times._

"Uh, yeah," he replies in a tone that, looking at the floor, I can't tell where it lands between annoyed and amused. "What were you expecting?"

"I don't know, something edgier, forbidden. Like Damon. Or Jackson."

He chuckled without smiling. "There are enough Damons and Jacksons. Maybe you need an Edward."

_Are you fucking kidding me? Is that a line? Is he using lines on me?_

He looked down again.

"So you like to read? Let's talk about books or something, keep your mind off the altitude."

For the next hour, we talked books, movies, zodiac signs, zombie apocalypse, and of course, carnival food. He had managed to get me feeling so at home, holding his hand, talking about myself, that I forgot how far off the ground we were and actually started to feel at home here, lifted up in the deepening darkness, seated in the sky.

With the night creeping up from over the hills came coolness too biting for my thin tank top and gauzy blouse. I shuddered at the chill and shuffled closer to Edward, pressing the bare flesh of my arm against his. He squeezed my hand and gestured to the darkening sky.

"Beautiful up here." He said it quietly, almost like a prayer.

I knew I must be stoned from the altitude, or perhaps from the endogenous emotional high of making a connection with the smart, gorgeous man beside me. My fear had been in remission since the balcony scene reference, and I barely felt any anxiety as I laid my head on his shoulder, staring out into the stars. He let out a quiet hum of satisfaction and leaned his head over mine.

"I hope Emmett takes his time," he murmured. As he spoke, I felt his warm breath whisper across my forehead.

And then I smelled it.

His breath smelled like funnel cake.

The sweet scent of light and heaven activated some primal space in my brain and I was no longer the timid apologist who got on this ride an hour ago. My fear had melted into something shiny, glowing; a coat of enamel sealing a new set of galvanized steel nerves. This time, I was not going to let the possibility of rejection kill the possibility of something beautiful.

So it was without hesitation or consent that I dropped the hand I was holding to raise them both to his face and guide it down to mine.

The sweetness I had expected, the taste of sugar as strong as if his lips had been freshly dusted with it. It was the sudden warmth of his mouth, the way the heat of his kiss seemed to cling and spread over my skin, that burned up the last of my tension. His hand buried itself in my hair, the palm cradling my cheek. His fingertips flexed gently against my scalp behind my ear and held my face closer. I felt the strange sensation of muscles softening in my spine as I opened my mouth to him, wanting tp taste not only his tongue, but his whole being.

_This what it feels like. Giving over. I do not want to come down from this, ever, anymore._

The warmth from his mouth poured itself over my skin, making me dizzy, and I knew that I was in a moment, like a lucid dream. A moment that I wouldn't forget. A moment that I couldn't spoil just by being me. I was just going to fly and figure out the landing later.

In an instant, I threw my leg over his lap so I was straddling him. Sliding one hand into his hair, I held the other against the back of his neck, breathing hard and desperate not to break this kiss, moaning softly into his mouth. I was relieved to feel the hardness of his arousal through his jeans, pressing against the seam of mine. _Thank fuck, he's just as turned on as I am._

His hands wrapped around my waist and moved up my back, beneath my tank top, cool against my skin before curling over my shoulders. "Bella," he breathed between kisses, pushing me away gently.

"What?" I sighed back at him, confused.

"Is this too fast? I don't want -"

I cut him off with a hard kiss, gripping his hair and letting my nails graze his scalp. Moving my mouth down his jaw, I whispered into his ear, "I know it's too fast. But please don't ask me to stop."

I punctuated my request by flexing my hips, pressing myself hard against his erection. The indescribable feeling of relief and connection to him was too intense for me to hold back. Our kiss became more passionate, bordering on feverish, as he brought his hands down my back to cup my ass. His low growl of pleasure felt like a flash of electricity between my legs. I could feel my own wetness as he began to move my hips back and forth over his generous arousal. "God, you're so fucking pretty," he moaned, as I rocked myself over and over, his hands guiding me, rubbing against his lap, feeling the gondola swaying gently with us in the crisp night air.

"You feel so good," I whispered back. I brought my head back up to kiss his mouth again, revelling in the freedom this new version of myself felt to touch, and speak, and taste, outside of the cage of my own self-consciousness. I would have to remember to buy Rose some flowers. And balloons. And those fancy cookies in a tin box.

His cock felt like it was made to fit against me as I continued riding it, grinding my hips back and forth over him, my arms clinging around his shoulders. The rough pressure against my clit sent hot sparks of pleasure through my bloodstream.

For the first time, dry humping was actually getting me somewhere.

I lowered my kisses to his throat, his Adam's apple, feeling the hint of stubble under my lips. The air felt like it was swirling around on my skin in concert with Edward's hands. "I feel like I can't touch you enough," he breathed into the night air, as his hands moved to the front of my body. Without hesitating, they climbed up the overheated skin of my belly to my breasts, slipping under my bra and inside the cups, squeezing them once before taking my nipples and rolling them roughly between his fingers.

It was all I needed. I had no idea I was so close to orgasm until it overtook me, the exquisite sensation making my heart pound harder than it ever had, bringing my teeth down to bite into the skin of his firm shoulder as a strangled cry of "fuck" climbed up from my throat and the muscles of my sex pulsed hard against themselves. I wanted to melt, to become liquid in his mouth, to fuse to his body just like this, to never let this feeling fade.

"Was that - did you just - oh, fuck -" his breathing was uneven and rough as he brought his hips up once, hard, into my still trembling body and let what I assumed was his own release wash over him.

Rose was going to get a big box of chocolates, too. And a huge teddy bear clutching a fuzzy little felt rose in his paws.

I brought my lips up to kiss his neck beneath his ear, feeling him strain his body upwards to press tightly against mine. As I licked the thin skin there and inhaled his smoky, beachy smell once more, something told me to open my eyes.

So I did.

And we were on the ground.

And everyone.

Was.

Staring.

Emmett stood out from the others because his expression was purely amused. Jasper's face reflected more confusion than anything, and Rose and Alice's jaws gaped open in shock. It didn't escape my notice that Alice's hand was locked inside Jasper's, and her hair had a certain rumpled, defiant quality to it that announced that she had more than likely just been fucked. I knew that little minx had been holding out on me.

Edward's hands quickly dropped from my breasts, the sudden loss of their heat leaving a light sting against my sensitive skin. An "ow" quietly slipped out of my mouth and I lifted my eyes to his face, my forehead wrinkled in displeasure.

"Sorry," he apologized with lifted eyebrows and a smile so sweet and warm, so relaxed and open, that I couldn't help but smile back.

We had no one to blame but ourselves for this mess. And no way was I going to apologize for what I had found with Edward during our time in the sky.

Untangling our bodies from one another quickly, we stood in the now motionless gondola, adjusting our rumpled clothes and smoothing our hair. I pressed the cool back of my hand against the forehead that I'm sure was blushing so intensely, it was probably well on its way to burgundy. Stepping forward onto the platform, I paused at a light touch to my hand, and turned around to see Edward's fingers wrapping slowly around mine, folding my hand into his. Meeting his eyes, I saw something there I couldn't quite interpret. It was almost a pleading look, but tinged with desire. He didn't want this moment to end either. I squeezed his hand and pulled him forward with me, holding tightly.

_I'm not letting go_, I thought, willing him to hear my thoughts.

.

~0~

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So there you have it. i would thank my beta, but this was un-beta'd. That might explain some things. So i'll thank the kind encouragement of friends.

i have a few ideas towards continuing the story, but honestly, i'm not sure i have enough guts for it.

Feedback & constructive criticism are welcomed, requested, groveled for.

Thank you for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Holy shitsnacks, the response to this silly little story has been overwhelming. i can't even explain how much it means to me to have your kind encouragement. All the thoughtful reviews have been such a confidence booster that i actually started another o/s; it's very different from this one. It will (maybe) get posted later this month.

So it looks like *my* stupid button is stuck now; an errant click may have sent out alerts for a chapter which wasn't there. Public Service Announcement: Never leave a toddler around an unattended laptop. Sorry about that!

There may be more ... it won't be epic, surely, but i'll see what my remaining brain cells can scrape together.

Big, big thanks to HollettLA for being my very first, very kind, very sharp-eyed beta on this one.

Thank you, oh my god, so fucking much, for reading and reviewing. i tried to reply to every single one - if i left anyone out, i'm so sorry and it was totally accidental.

Disclaimer: Truly, i do not own Twilight, nor do i profit from messing around with its characters. Unless by "profit", you actually mean "get off". Then we'd all be in trouble.

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I moved to step forward off the gondola and onto the platform. His hand, locked in mine, tugged me backwards. A little dizzy and suffering from post-cum-jellylegs, I half-tripped, half-twirled against his chest. God, that bonfire smell was even stronger now that the winds aloft weren't stealing it. I wanted to get back on the ride and go again.

The ride in question being his penis. Rock hard, or best offer.

Knowing that I was about to face an interrogation from Rose and Alice that would likely have made the drill sergeant from Full Metal Jacket cry was also feeding my desire to just escape from the questioning eyes. So I could understand his hesitation to step out and suddenly have to explain the God-knows-how-many minutes of tween-style outercourse they just witnessed to his cousin. He wrapped his other arm around my back, resting his chin on my hair as if we were slow dancing, and for a moment, there were no emotional attack dogs behind me, no strangers wondering who-is-this-whore-and-how-much-to-be-next. There was only me, and him, and the fact that he was holding me _intentionally_, lighting lanterns in my soul.

"I don't feel like explaining this to them either, Edward, but we can't stand here all night." I stepped back, looking to his expression for a clue.

"It's not ... I just ..." He shut his eyes tight, taking in a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked like he was trying to say something difficult.

_He wants to break up. He thinks you're a pushy, oversexed Slutmaster 3000 and he is trying to blow you off so you don't follow him to his car like a bloodhound for dick. _I sighed inwardly. I was still knee-deep in his magic; it was unfair to expect more.

_I'd better save him the effort._

"Hey," I started softly, "It's OK if you want this to just be what it was."

Hie eyes went wide. "No! That's ... that's not where I was going." He shook his head, blinking.

_Yes! Thank God, because I would sell my organs for another ten minutes in his lap, this time with no pants._

"So ..." I prompted him to finish.

He leaned in close, eyes staring out nervously over my shoulder at the still-gaping spectators as he whispered, "I have a ... situation. Resulting from our ... ah, shit, Bella, are you really going to make me say it?" He exhaled in a nervous chuckle.

_Say what? The fuck is he talking about?_ I was 95% sure I'd felt his situation happily resolved right after - OHHH. Right. He fucking came in his pants for me. _Jesus, that sounds hot_. I felt my clit twitch once in agreement.

_Shut up, dummy, I'll flick you later. Unless I can outsource the job._

Now that his hesitation made more sense, I breathed a relieved sigh, dissipating the achy tightness in my chest that I hadn't noticed until it was fading.

"You drove here alone?" I asked, my voice low.

"No," he replied, "Emmett drove the van."

"Good," I said, "Jasper can drive Rose and Allie."

I looked up at his face, his pinkening skin giving away a hint of a blush. A mischievous smile crept over my face.

"Here's the plan," I whispered. "On three, drop my hand, and we run for the main exit." His sea green eyes sparkled for a second, and he squeezed my hand.

"One ..."

"Two," his voice was low as he bent his knees, ready to run.

"Three!" It was a whispered starter's gun, and our feet pound out a loud, hideous clanging against the perforated metal platform.

_Metal. My keys! Fuck! I always forget something!_

Turning around, I grabbed the platform railing to keep from skidding sideways and climbed back into the gondola to retrieve my bag, slinging it across my back. Emmett was only steps away as I came out again, the knowing grin on his face charming in its shamelessness. I got the feeling he would give me a fist bump if I wasn't moving so fast, but now my forgetfulness had stolen precious seconds, and even though Edward had turned to find me and slowed to a hopping backwards walk that allowed me to catch up, something competitive has ignited in me and now: I. Have. To. Win.

The shouts of "Hey!" coming from Rose's direction faded in my ears as the dirty toes of my All-Stars sent the gravel into the air. The night air rushed over my skin like cool water, reaching into my lungs and tugging them open as I flew past Edward and beat him to the turn where the gravel met the paved road. Air rushing past my ears drowned everything else out, everything except the sound of Edward's laugh only steps behind me, and then -

We.

Were.

Flying.

Lights blurred into lines streaking past us, and the few people left on the now-closed fairgrounds turned to stare at the two crazy idiots sprinting toward the gate like their asses were on fire. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward quickly catch up to me on my right and then overtake me, and I was treated to the loveliest view of his ass as he ran, his cheeks taking turns filling his jeans out perfectly. It was lucky for me that I was already panting hard from racing him; gaping and mouth-breathing like this would not have looked as ideally feminine and mysterious had we been standing still.

Quickly, the tall gate loomed before us, and we both slowed our pace to meet it. He reached it first, and upon pushing, found it locked with a thick chain and padlock. Now it made sense that everyone we'd passed had been walking in the opposite direction - they must be letting the last stragglers leave via the smaller back gate, near the Ferris wheel Edward and I had just sullied. He was breathing too fast to talk, but the look he gave me read resigned exasperation.

He thought we were going to have to go back the other way and face Rose, Alice and Emmett.

_Pretty fucker better think again._

I gripped the chain-link fence tightly and dug my shoe in for traction, climbing upward with deliberate movements. There was no fucking way I was going back to the midway with my friends and their slutty "bad cop" inquisition. Sure, I'd have to face them eventually - actually, it would probably be fun reliving the moment I stopped overthinking and exploded like a dirty, whorish rocket in midair, but not now, and not here. And definitely not after hauling ass away from them at about a million miles an hour.

Edward's boots weren't finding easy toeholds in the fence, and he was climbing slowly, slipping occasionally but holding fast with his smooth, tightly muscled arms.

I reached the top of the fence first, threw one leg over and paused for a second, balanced easily, watching his fingers wind into the twisted metal. His hair, catching the brash yellow streetlight, looked like a mosaic of light and dark and red strands, woven into a tapestry of perfection by ... wow, who? His mom's pussy, I guess.

_Go, Mrs. Edward's Mom's babymaker._

She's got to have the world's most awesome cooter to produce such incredibly good looking offspring. Perhaps it was lined in gold and rose petals, and gave off a subtle jasmine and sandalwood smell. Maybe when she got her period, money fell out. I wondered if she ate a lot of funnel cake and rainbows while she was pregnant.

He brought his face up, looking for the top of the fence, and caught me staring. The cockiest, "I-got-you-now" smirk lit his eyes for a moment. Then, the world went strangely askew ... the grin on his face slipped into a concerned look, knitted eyebrows and downturned mouth. And then his gorgeous face was gone, and there were stars. No air, only stars.

_Nice dismount there, stupid._

It took me a while to realize I'd fallen from the gate. I should have remembered: I was still Bella Swan; climbing anything taller than a grain of rice still came with a 90% chance of landing on my ass, even if I did hump a stranger 50,000 feet off the ground.

Or 40 feet, whatever. Christ, I'm not a mathematician.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Edward had brought himself over the top of the fence and climbed down a few feet before hopping off to crouch at my side. "Are you okay? Did you hit your head?" He tenderly took my hand in his. "Can you feel me squeezing your hand?"

His concern was thoroughly adorable. It almost soaked up all the embarrassment of busting my ass in front of the hottest boy I'd ever rubbed myself off on. I giggled at his careful approach. This poor boy would be calling ambulances twice a day if we ended up dating.

_Dating. Fuck. Maybe he wants to date me._

The thought brought with it an abrupt end to the giggles and a swift rush of blood to my face. Just a few hours ago, this boy was no one to me. Then I kissed him, made him hard and rode him like a rented mule. And now I had the distinct possibility of more of him. Maybe a lot more.

"No, no no!" He started to protest as I sat up, dusting gravel and dirt off my jeans. "Bella, wait; that was a serious fall; you should be sitting down. Aren't you dizzy?"

_Look how cute he is, trying to take care of me. Let's go home and play doctor so he can give me a sore vagina and then kiss it all better._

Inhaling deeply, I put a hand on his shoulder in a slightly patronizing gesture. "Edward," I sighed, "You just met me, so there's no way you could have known, but this?" I gestured down to my dirty jeans, "This happens _all _the time," I patted my ass, brushing off the dirt and trying to move on before my clumsiness became a topic of conversation.

Ow. My ass was definitely going to bruise from that fall, despite all the funnel-cake padding I put on it today. I was trying to downplay the little waddling limp my fall had earned me; thankfully, it appeared that Edward hadn't noticed, and actually, he was walking a little strangely himself, slightly hunched over. I could only imagine the spunk in his shorts was starting to dry, becoming sticky, congealed and uncomfortable right about now.

Wow. I think I just might have found something that turns me off about this guy: the state of his drawers right now . Sperm is unpleasant tasting stuff even at its very freshest, most glorious form. Half-dried, flaky spunk, maybe-even-mixed-with-a-little-sweatiness-from-running was absolutely not on my favorite flavors list. I appreciate boy-gravy for what it is, really … I'm just not in any rush to get a mouthful of it. That shit just tastes like Wrong.

He can put it anywhere _but_ my mouth.

Anywhere.

Oh! Except in some other chick. That would be absolutely un-fucking-acceptable.

I gestured to my car as we reached the parking lot. It was one of the only cars left, but the station-wagony 1988 Volvo 240 would have stood out anywhere. She had started out silver, but now rust was creeping up her undercarriage, and one of the doors and a quarter-panel were primer-white. She was all I could afford for the time being, and despite the inherent unpredictability of owning a car nearly as old as myself, I'd grown fond of her, even naming her "Hope" ... as in, "Hope that shitwagon starts again today," and "Hope that sound wasn't the goddamn muffler again!" As I walked over to unlock the passenger door for Edward, a chirp from my pocket alerted me to a text message.

It was from Rose.

The screen was just 120 characters of the word CUNT repeated in all caps, with "call me later" in lowercase at the bottom.

I think that means she forgave me.

"Everything okay?" Edward asked.

"It will be," I replied, letting him in and crossing in front of the car to let myself in. The key was almost in the lock when I saw his hand on the inside of the driver's side door, popping the lock open.

He had opened the door for me.

I had to lean against the car momentarily while I had a Bronx Tale moment.

Remote powered door locks are now so commonplace that most of us have forgotten how to manually unlock a door at all. Not only had he remembered, but he had spontaneously performed this simple gesture for me, just to make my night a fraction easier.

Maybe I was starting to rethink my sperm consumption prohibition. Because if there was one man on the face of the planet who deserved to finish in my mouth, he was sitting in my car right now, fingering the pink iPod I'd left on the passenger seat.

I got into the driver's seat, tossed my bag into the back, and watched his face as he scrolled through my music library.

"Recently Played ..." his voice was a challenge as he tapped the play button and waited.

And waited.

"Shit," my fingers flew to the tape deck, pushing the converter cassette in all the way in and down, then pulling the iPod's output jack out and licking it before sticking it back in. "Sometimes you have to ... um, lick it to get it going."

_Fuck, I can't believe I just said that with a straight face._

The anthemic guitar of The Hold Steady's "Hurricane J" came roaring from my speakers so loud that we both jumped in our seats and laughed before he scrolled the volume back.

"Do you always listen to music this loud?"

I shrugged. "When I have a rough day at work."

He turned back to the iPod and browsed as he talked. "So what's a rough day at work for you?"

"Well," I took a deep breath, "I work at a day care. So a shitty day usually involves literally getting shit on. Having a toddler puke into my purse. Getting bit in the ass by a two-year-old. That kind of stuff."

He was still fiddling around on my iPod, showing no sign of having heard me.

"Unlike your hard days at work," I continued, "Surrounded by funnel cake and cotton candy, sunshine, the sound of children laughing ... climbing up Ferris wheels and humping strangers ... that shit must be brutal."

He chuckled without looking up. At least now I knew he was listening, and he was fluent in sarcasm.

"The Decemberists ... Iron & Wine ... Liz Phair ..." he read off, smiling as he scrolled.

It made me a little antsy having my musical tastes scrutinized by this unbelievably hot guy with sticky underwear. "Finding something you like?" I asked.

"Yeah," was his quick reply. Out of the corner of my vision, I saw his eyes were on me when he spoke. "I think I have."

I swallowed hard and kept my eyes trained straight ahead, hiding my reddening face in the dark.

_Sticks and stones may break my bones, but the way this boy flirts may result in lethal dehydration._

"So," I asked as I started the car with a stuttering rumble, "where to?"

He was still messing with the music player. The intensity with which he stared into it almost made me jealous.

"Edward?"

"Sorry," his head snapped up quickly. "You were saying?"

"Where can I drop you?" I repeated.

It crossed my mind to invite him back to my house for a shower and a cup of the most perfect coffee ever poured by human hands, but it occurred to me that I didn't have anything appropriate for him to change into. And the thought of him busting the seams of my pink kitty-cat print panties was about as sexy as getting diarrhea in a K-Mart.

"Make a left out of the lot and then a right at the first light, we'll be on that road for a while."

Still feeling the heat in my cheeks, I rolled down the window for the kiss of cool night air.

Yeah, I _rolled them down. _Shut up, it's good exercise for the arms.

I drove quietly while he continued scrolling through my digital music. I felt strangely naked, struggling to remember if I had any playlists named "Music to Get Boned To" or "Masturbation Classics". Eventually though, his head flipped up with a fierce grin, and he placed the iPod under the Volvo's wonky cassette player. We listened to another song or two before he pointed out where he wanted me to turn off.

As we turned onto the dark, wooded road, my phone rang. Retrieving it from my pocket, I found from the outside display that it was Alice. As much as I wanted details about what was going on between her and Jasper, this was by far not the ideal time for an estrogen-soaked who-humped-what catch up session. I hit a button to send her call to voicemail and tossed the antiquated flip phone into the change tray.

"You don't have a smartphone?" Edward asked.

"Me? Uh, no," I started nervously, "Can't really afford it at the moment. Do you have any idea what shitty tippers three-year-olds are?"

He laughed.

I gestured around the interior of my old smokebucket Volvo. "Don't let my sweet ride fool you," I teased, "I'm not what you'd call a woman of means."

He seemed to take my comment as an invitation to search the vehicle. He opened up the glove compartment and peeked timidly inside before reaching in and grabbing a pink plastic bottle. "Bubbles?" he asked with a grin.

"Sometimes I use this stuff for work."

He kept pawing around and came up with a stick of deodorant, peering at it curiously.

I smacked it out of his hand. "I'm not a morning person, okay? Sometimes I forget stuff. And quit messing with my shit if you're going to judge it all, okay? You're going to hit Tamponville in a minute anyway." I leaned over his body and shut the glove compartment to punctuate my request.

His reply was soft and earnest.

"I'm not judging you, Bella; I'm _learning _you."

I had no idea what to say to that. I was feeling oddly exposed, now that he had rifled through my car and my music library, yet I still knew precious little about him. I knew I should ask him about himself, but I couldn't seem to think of a question that seemed remotely appropriate.

_What do you do when you're not busy starring in all my perverted fantasies?_

_So how long have you been making girls explode with their clothes on?_

_Do you come here often? And by__ "here," I mean in your pants._

The narrow road turned to gravel beneath my wheels, and in the darkness, I saw sparkles of light from the passenger side. Edward grinned at me as he filled the car with bubbles, floating and glinting with moonlight.

_He's like this adorable, mischievous little kid. _

Oh shit.

I suddenly thought of a really, really important question. And it shot out from my lips tinged with the panic that had suddenly gripped me with slick, icy fingers.

"How old are you?" I blurted, my too-loud voice betraying my terror.

"Seventeen," he answered quickly. "Well, almost."

_FUUUUCKfuckfuckfuckI'mgoingtojail._

It took me a few seconds to register the sound of his laughter, and another few to begin to comprehend it.

"Oh, Bella," he laughed, "I'm sorry, but the look on your face …"

I slammed on the brakes, gravel crunching beneath the tires.

"Not funny, asspony!" I chastised while smiling fiercely, smacking his leg playfully with the back of my hand between words. "I thought Chris Hansen was going to pop out of the trees!" I couldn't help but laugh with him in relief.

"I'm sorry, really," he said, lifting his body to produce a thin, threadbare vintage wallet from his back pocket. "Twenty-three. Twenty-four next month." He handed me his driver's license as proof.

Cullen, Edward A.

06/20/87.

Organ Donor.

Even his driver's license photo was sexy. Hair all disheveled, one eyebrow cocked up slightly, the hint of a knowing smile warming his face.

_I can think of one organ I'd like to be the recipient of. _

"I'm twenty-two," I said as I handed the card back to him.

Even if he had just given me a fucking aneurysm thinking that I was going to have to register as a sex offender, I had to admit, his playfulness was disarming. I'd sometimes thought of my "type" as dark, mysterious, and brooding, but being around Edward felt natural, effortless.

"And that's me," he pointed to a small building set back off the road. It was almost invisible in the darkness, standing out only where the glow of a light penetrated a window. There were no other houses around. He apparently lived out in the middle of nowhere.

"So." My heart thudded. The anxiety was seeping back into my brain as I realized the potential for rejection that this moment held.

_I fucking hate awkward goodbyes. Please just kiss me before something stupid and/or insane comes out of my mouth. _

He took my hand from my lap, stroked my fingers gently, turned it palm side up. He raised it to his lips so slowly, placing the softest funnel-cake-flavored kiss inside and folding my fingers around it like a gift.

He said nothing, just looking in my eyes. His expression was difficult to read. Studious? Pensive?

Was he trying to make a graceful exit without getting my number?

I couldn't let him go like that - not after throwing off my mantle of shyness on the ride the way I did. Not after sharing the most amazing, unexpected, exhilarating moment of my life with him. No, if I was going to remember this night with a tear in my eye, goddammit, it would be because he rejected me, not because I gave up and walked away just assuming that he would.

_Say __something__, Bella. No grunting like Rosalie said. Say a word. _

"Fuck," I whispered.

_Go with that, fuck's a word! It's a command even! _

His amused expression was so genuine, so easily open. He seemed to have this boyish fearlessness that made me wonder if he's ever been hurt.

And thank the sweet mother of fuck, he spoke.

"Can we not turn this into a contest to see who can hide their feelings better?" His other hand was on my face, his cool thumb stroking my cheek slowly. His dark jade eyes flickered in the light from the dashboard.

"Okay," I breathed.

"I've never met anyone like you," he spoke softly, "Ever. Everything about you has me intrigued and right now, you have my full and undivided attention. I like you, Bella. I want to know you. So whatever you want me to be, friend, lover, boyfriend ... whatever you want to let me be, I'm in."

His voice was so earnest, unshaking, I wanted to ask how he can stand it, how he can bear to put his heart in my teeth like that.

"I've definitely never met anyone like you either," my voice trembled, giving me away, "and I want more too, whatever that looks like."

I was shocked to have uttered a complete sentence.

In the darkness, I didn't see his mouth descend to kiss me as much as I felt its warmth a second before it actually touched mine. My eyes fell closed and the softness of this kiss, the gentleness in his lips was nothing like the urgent burning I felt on the Ferris wheel. Those kisses were gasoline and neon. This one was honeysuckle and fireflies.

He pulled back only to kiss me again, lips parted slightly, the hand that was on my cheek sliding to the back of my neck and gently guiding me closer, and it was too late, I was lost, I already knew.

There is a point when you begin a relationship, before which you can withdraw your paltry emotional investment and walk away good as new, brushing the discarded one off your hands like chalkdust.

In his soft kiss, I had acknowledged that I was past that point already. And I only met him a couple of hours ago.

To someone like me, who before tonight couldn't say five words in a row to anyone she was interested in, this definitely means trouble.

Edward broke the kiss again, quickly placing his lips to me one last time, and with only a moment's hesitation, dropped my hand and reached for the door handle.

I was a puddle. I wondered how long I would rest silently in this seat until somebody with a ShamWow arrived to clean me up.

Once outside, he leaned in through the open window and thanked me for the ride.

"I could say the same," I exhaled.

He breathed a laugh and shook his head in amusement.

"If you're not busy tomorrow, I'll be back at the fair all day … I mean, I'll be stuck working, but we could talk, maybe go someplace after closing?"

I nod, "I'll be there."

Another plate or two of funnel cake, plus more kissing from the sexiest boy to ever feel me up? Fucking twist my arm.

"See you then," he whispered, smiling, and turned away.

"Oh, one more thing," he stepped back toward me, mischief painted into his wry smirk. "You might want to check your iPod, I think some jerk's been fucking with it."

He patted the Volvo twice as he turned and walked into the darkness.

I sat motionless for a moment before putting the car in reverse, memorizing the way I felt, the breath of his kiss still on my lips, his beachy firepit smell lingering tenuously in my car, his sweet words circling my ears like seagulls.

He wants to be mine.

New. Fucking. Happy place.

I was only able to get back to the main road before the curiosity was too much and I pulled over in a convenience store parking lot to grab my iPod and inspect it. Everything looked fine … I wasn't really even sure what I was supposed to be looking for. I checked the On-The-Go playlist that was previously empty and shitshitSHIT - he'd made a setlist there. No wonder he had seemed so preoccupied as I was driving. He had been picking a little bouquet of music for me. And these were all really good goddamn songs. It started with Liz Phair's "Supernova", went into some William Fitzsimmons, and even included an Ani DiFranco song. The mix seemed to be both fiery and smooth: a lot like him.

Suddenly, the entire day was crashing over me like a warm, heavy wave, and I rolled the windows up in preparation to look like a 14-year-old who'd just seen pictures of Justin Bieber naked.

The teenager inside me brought this screaming giggle bubbling out from my lungs, and I bounced in my seat and squealed like I just won some kind of orgasm lottery, which, honestly, I really kind of hoped I had.

"Fuck shit fuck! Bella! Enough with the fucking screaming!" It was a female voice, so soft, I wasn't positive if I'd heard it or imagined it.

"Hello?" I peered in the back seat and around the parking lot, but there was no one.

"Jesus horsefucking Christ, I had my volume all the way up trying to listen to you two fuck," the voice continues, "and then you start screaming like that? Not cool, You Bitch."

Alice?

The voice was coming from the change tray in the console beside me. From my phone.

Oh god. I must have answered her call by accident instead of sending it to voicemail.

That meant Alice had eavesdropped on most of my conversation with Edward.

I rejected the impulse to throw the phone out the window and instead held it to my ear.

"Alice, you hot bag of monkey piss. You were listening to all that?"

"Well, I _was_, until you squealed like a pig and made me fucking deaf!"

I brought my voice down to a whisper. "So … so what did you think?"

Alice snorted, "I think we'd better stop at the drugstore for some condoms before we go back to the fair tomorrow."

..

..

..

A/N: Sorry this took me so long. i'm not really a writer, remember? Hope it meets with your approval. If there is more, it'll probably take about the same.

i pulled that "Gee, Mister, i'm only 17" shit on my husband the night we met. i was actually 22. You should have seen his face. i still laugh at that.

Millions of deep fried sugar-coated kisses to Mrs. The King for her enthusiastic support, and being kind enough to read and rec me, as well as to Lo21 for her ongoing encouragement. If you haven't read her latest story "All The Colors of My Heart", you are missing out, no joke.

And thank you again for reading.


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